Nineteen years later
by Tharin
Summary: A train platform brings back memories. Nineteen years later, from Draco Malfoy's POV.


Autorin: Tharin

Titel: „Nineteen years later"

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. It all belongs to the wonderful Mrs. Rowling.

Summary: A train platform brings back memories. Nineteen years later, from Draco Malfoy's POV.

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**Nineteen years later**

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Children running, talking, laughing, people everywhere. We'd just stepped trough the barrier, and suddenly I feel like a kid myself. Has it really been 26 years? I remember the day I started school like it was yesterday, and yet, it was a lifetime ago.

My son is starting Hogwarts today. He's so exited that he barely stops talking. I listen, but I let my eyes wander across this well known train platform, and still I'm feeling like being 11 again.

A running boy catches my eye. One of Potter's, no doubt. There's no way of mistaking the mob of unruly, black hair.

There they are, Potter and his wife, cluttered around their youngest boy. From all of Potter's children, this one is the only one who looks exactly like him. Just like Scorpius looks like me, I suppose. He has my features, the white blonde hair of a Malfoy, but the grey eyes of a Black. Just like Potter's youngest shares his fathers green eyes and the black hair. They look like us. But I hope that they're not going to replay our school days.

The sins of the fathers.

Well, the sins of one father, at least.

I hope they don't come back to haunt my son, like my father's did me. I hope he'll never makes the mistakes I did.

Even now, knowing that Dumbledore was dying anyway, I still feel guilty. The actions of this year still hunt me. But I would do it again, if it was necessary to save my parents. I'd like to think that this doesn't make me a bad man, only human.

Potter looks over to us, Granger and Weasley too. I nod at them. We'll never be friends, but they did save my life two times. Three, actually, because I'd been killed for sure had the Dark – had Voldemort won. There: I'm finally able to say his name. It only took me half a lifetime.

But these two years, back then, were the worst years of my life. I've spend them in a constant state of fear. Fear for my life, fear for my parents. That was the worst part: To think that I would loose my parents, because I wasn't good enough to save them.

But I didn't loose them. All thanks to Potter. This day, the battle of Hogwarts, was like the conclusion of a very long nightmare. Seeing Potter, supposedly dead, lying at Voldemort's feet, was making me want to run and hide for the rest of my life. But I didn't. For the first time in my life, I didn't took a coward's way out. Instead, I wanted to fight. Maybe it was thinking that I would die anyway, maybe only pure adrenalin. I'd already nearly died twice this day, only to be saved be Potter, Weasley and Granger. Facing this death-eater, only minutes after I've been saved from the fryind-fire, was too much. I didn't know what to do, how to defend myself, and I guess I would have died, if not for Potter. I've never been happier to hear Weasley's voice: "And that's the second time we've saved your life tonight, you two-faced bastard!"

Yes, Weasley, it was. And I don't have to like you to be thankful for that. I did thank them, afterwards. They looked surprised, all of them, and a little suspicious. But then Potter did offer me his hand. "I'm tiered of fighting," he said. "and I'm glad you're not dead." Granger just smiled at me, something she's never done before. Even Weasley took my hand; with a grumbled "I guess I just got used seeing your ugly face around, ferret." Some things never change, come hell or high water.

They took my parents in custody at the same moment. I guess it was unavoidable. But then another miracle happened: Potter intervened at my mother's behave. "She saved my life," he said. "She's the reason Voldemort thought me dead. I couldn't have escaped without her help." And this was enough. His intervention saved her from Azkaban.

My father of course, was another matter. He'd spend five years in prison, and all the money and the weight of his name didn't spared him this time. But he survived. He always did. The fact that he didn't participated in the last Battle worked in his favour. I think he's surprised himself this day. I guess it began after his first stay in Azkaban, after my fifth year. He started to doubt Voldemort. But this day, in the midst of the final battle, he discovered that his family was more important to him then anything else. No Dark Lord, no politics, nor winning or loosing. Just the overwhelming instinct to keep his family save.

I'd always knew he'd loved me, but only since I have a child myself I fully understand. I even understand what Potter's parents did, that faithful night all these years ago. I'd never been courageous, but I'll do anything to keep my son save. I've never been a good person, but maybe this makes me a better man.

Scorpious is eager to board the train, and I fight the urge to hold him back, to hug him and never let him go. He'd hate it. He's eleven, and he's a man now, or so he insists. I'm glad he's not. He's growing up too fast as it is. I'll hope he'll have fun at Hogwarts. I want him to enjoy his childhood. He's going to be an adult soon enough.

**The End.**

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Notes: This was written a few days after reading DH, so it has nothing to do with the movie. I liked it, but the battle in the book was better, in some ways. I liked that Neville stood up to Voldemort and killed the snake. At this point, everybody believed Harry to be dead, but they were still fighting. In the movie, they only started to fight after discovering that Harry lived.


End file.
